Transatlantic TV-host Layla Kayleigh’s path to stardom was anything but easy. In the third issue of WMB, she opens up about her tumultuous start, the power of drive, and shaping your own destiny.

WMB: You didn’t have an easy start. Describe your early years.
Layla Kayleigh: I grew in London, and I left home at 15. I didn’t have a place to live until my best friend’s mom unofficially adopted me and took me in. When you’re on your own at any age, your survival instincts kick in. I realized early on that I had to make a decision: I could either view myself as a victim of my circumstances for the rest of my life, or I could be a fighter and go against the odds.

Triple-threat Nazanin Mandi has made waves in modeling, acting and music, and she’s made it look easy. The starlet and songstress opens up to WMB about her career, her personal life, and the changing voice of Middle Eastern women.

WMB: You started your acting career on wholesome teen shows for Nickelodeon. But recently, we’ve seen your shoots getting much sexier. Explain the process of going from rated-G to NC-17?
Nazanin Mandi: [laughs] I’m evolving into the person I’ve always wanted to be. I’m finally comfortable with my sexuality, and I’ve also accepted that there is always a class way to do things. It is possible to be both sexy and classy.

The London-born and now Los Angeles-based DJ and music producer played pivotal roles in the shaping of dance music history and culture, from Ibiza to Harlem. A three-time Grammy nominee, Oakenfold went from 16 year-old bedroom DJ to opening stadium tours for Madonna, and he’s hardly ready to stop. WMB sits down with the oft-dubbed Godfather or Trance to discuss DJing in the digital age, the energy of America, and the importance of following your passion.

WMB: What was the turning point for you?
Paul Oakenfold: When my friends were out partying, I was in chef training. I’d work lunch from 10 to 3, then dinner from 5 to 11, and then do it all over again the next day. I worked fucking hard. I had just turned 20 and I saw all my friends having a good time, enjoying their lives. So right after I passed my exams, I said to myself, ‘Life’s too short to be doing this. I’ve got to follow my dream of making music. If it doesn’t happen, then it doesn’t happen. I can always go back to being a chef.’

There are a few moments in your life where you reach a crossroads. The first one for most people is when it’s time to leave home. You have to decide, are you gonna stay home and be a mommy’s boy, or are you going to go be out in the wild world? Of course it’s easier to stay home, but you know you’ve got to get out. You can’t go through life regretting and hiding. You’re allowed to fall down. We all do. But you pick yourself back up and try again. Succeeding is trying. Maybe you get up and say, ‘This wasn’t for me.’ But you’ve already succeeded because you’ve tried. It’s the people who don’t try—the people who sit there in that same position for 30 years and say, ‘I’m gonna do this,’ and ‘I’m gonna do that,’—those people are bound to face a very dark moment when they wake up and realize, ‘I just let life go by.’

Your stories from your early days are notorious, like when you were sneaking into Studio 54. Were you a troublemaker, growing up?
No, I wasn’t trouble. I was just young and in New York and I wanted to be a part of it all. I was intrigued. But I wasn’t old enough to get into those clubs, so I was going to try to get in by any way possible. I was sleeping on the floor in Puerto Rican Harlem. I had no money, but I was very inspired by the whole scene. I wanted to know what was going on inside the clubs. It was a pivotal moment in my life. I said, ‘This is it. This is fucking it.’ I got a fake ID made up, and I’m sure the English accent helped. In England, they don’t have ID—they look at you and go, ‘Nope.’ But in America, you show them an ID and you go, ‘Yeah, that’s me,’ with an English accent and they fall for it.

Shortly after New York, you famously went to Ibiza in 1987 to celebrate your birthday. This trip is widely accepted as the defining moment in acid house history, or—put another way—the birth of trance. What caused this perfect storm?
There were a few things. My friends were there. The scene was something new and special, and I was already dialed in because of my time in New York. It was the opening of major clubs, but in these clubs you were dancing under the stars. It was also the drugs, and it was the music. Ibiza was a musical playground. So I went back with my flag in my hand and said, ‘This is what we’re going to do …’

Fast forward 25 years, and today, electronic music is everywhere. It’s in hip-hop, it’s in rock-n-roll, it’s in pop. In your mind, what happened?
Now, house music is pop music. Mainstream electronic dance music—EDM—is what we used to call House in the ‘80s. What you’re hearing on the radio is all EDM-based. House has gone completely mainstream.

What excites you?
Being exactly where I am, at the moment. All eyes are on us, and we should make the world proud. It’s a good time to be living in our world, the electronic world.

Any advice to our younger readers?
Yeah, a lot of advice: Work hard, focus on yourself—your time will come—and practice. If you want to be the best at anything in life, you’ve got to practice. The problem with much of the youth today is that they just want to be fucking famous, but they don’t want to work hard; they don’t want to put the time in. It used to just be in America, but now it’s spreading all over the world.

Every August, tens of thousands of “burners” migrate to the Black Rock desert in northern Nevada for Burning Man. The week-long festival transforms the barren landscape into a hub for art, expression and exhibition. WMB creator Nick Saglimbeni takes you into the eye of the dust storm to witness the makeshift city’s specatcular metamorphosis to technicolor wonderland.

In the far and very cold northeastern corner of China lies the city of Harbin. Once a tiny Manchurian fishing village, the city became known as the “Paris of the Orient” after Russians made it a trade center along the Trans-Siberian Railway extension. Today, Harbin boasts what is perhaps the most impressive ice festival in the world, making sub-zero temperature look downright enchanting.

I have always been fascinated with the industrial technologies associated with the arts. Offset printing, darkrooms, chemical baths at film labs, drum-scanning, silk screens—all of it. As we were preparing the upcoming issue of WMB 3D for print, it occurred to me that the rising generation of photographers may never get to experience the sheer awe of large-scale press printing, just as many have never set foot in a darkroom. So I decided to document our latest print venture for our readers.

Over the last decade as a magazine photographer, I’ve witnessed my images printed both wonderfully and horribly—something every artist will experience at some point in their careers—largely dependent on the critical choices of printer, stocks, coatings, and color-profiling, often made by the publishers. So, when it came time to print the first issue of WMB 3D: World’s Most Beautiful in 2011, I already knew which direction I would go with regards to printing.

Last week, I traveled to Ottawa, Canada to press check WMB 3D Issue 3. I spent the day touring the massive press facilities, marveling at the precision with which beautiful art can be made from such massive, outwardly grungy, industrial machines. I will follow up in a few days with a post on the actual press check experience, but here’s a sneak peek for the curious artists.